


Lucky Charms (Mercy76)

by Xavirne



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Bad Weather, Cute story, F/M, Lucky Charms, Mercy76, Overwatch - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 20:01:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9200180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xavirne/pseuds/Xavirne
Summary: Decided I'd take a stab at a first person story told from Mercy's point of view.  Let me know what you think.  Should I do more this way?  Or go back to third person?





	

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: This is horribly cheesy and I am sorry.

Knocking on the door, I drew in a shaky breathe. Was this... was this really the right thing to do? I'd heard rumors about this guy. About how he slept around. How he broke hearts. How he was a total jerk. And yet, there I was, standing at his door with a sweater dress on and burnt red-orange leggings.

Swallowing the lump that had formed in my throat, I went to knock again.

_If he doesn't answer, I'll just turn aroun-_

The door opened and my eyes met his sweet pair of baby blues. How anyone could see him as evil was beyond me. He was sweet and pure, like the honey I enjoyed in my tea.

"Heavens," he hurried me instead, "you could have come right in. I'm sorry I made you wait." His apologetic comment just further caused my mind to question everything I'd been told. Was it possible that this was all a facade? A front he put on to draw in weak, wary women?

"Something the matter?" He draped a scarf around my neck as he put on his thick wool coat. Truth be told, he looked ruggedly handsome in that deep navy blue coat. _How could anyone not trust you...?_

He was the rising star of Overwatch. There were talks about him earning a major promotion. Granted, there were also rumors that he slept with upper management to get that promotion. _Don't judge a book by it's cover_ , I had to remind myself. Some people were just jealous of his talents, not to mention his looks.

In the few years I'd come to know him, Jack had never felt like the flirty, playboy type. He always came across strict and serious. Why, he didn't even enjoy stripping down to nothing but his birthday suit for me whenever the quarterly checkups were required.

"Ang?" He snapped his fingers before my nose. I must have been zoning.

"Oh," I blushed, "sorry. I was just... thinking."

"About?"

 _Shit_. I hadn't thought about that. I just... ugh. I didn't want to admit it was him. But, by not saying a word, he jumped right on the assumption train.

 _"Oh?"_ His brow curved up as his devilish grin caused my heart beat to quicken. I felt weak in the knees. How... how could he be bad? He looked so...

His fingers brushed lightly against my cheeks. I couldn't help but turn away. I was embarrassed. Why... why couldn't I stand my own. Why was I acting like this?

" _Cute_ ," he cooed before reaching out to grab his car keys. "Anyway," his hand danced lightly across my shoulders, "I thought we could go to the Perion."

At his words, I stopped to stare. "I... I can't-"

"Uh," his forehead bumped lightly against mine. "Have you never been on a date before?" It had to be a rhetorical question as he followed it up with another comment. "Because I'm paying so you don't have to worry." His brows furrowed and he gave me a harsh, stern glare. "And don't even think about leaving a twenty or something behind in my cup holder. I will find you and I will return it." Was that a threat? Or a promise?

Cheeks burning brightly, I fiddled with my ear lobe before twirling a strand of hair. I went to open my mouth in protest but his charming grin silenced me. "Fine," I finally huffed. "But next time I'm buying!"

_"Next time?"_

_Did I really just say that?!_ I immediately regretted it. What if I was falling into his trap. What if the rumors were true! I just... I just added fuel to the fire! I was a gon-

Elbowing me, my thoughts crumbled. "Can't be a next time until we get through this time. What if you hate the way I eat!" He smacked his lips so loud I had to wince. "Or what if you don't like how I drive!" He purposely rammed into me, causing my footing to falter. Thankfully, he was fast and snatched me up before I could land in the knee-deep snow drift.

"Don't worry," he cooed. His breath tickled my nose and smelled of peppermint. A part of me wanted to lean in for a taste but I knew better than to awaken a demon, a devil. "I've got you."

A giggled. "That's my line," I responded. His pink blush made me smile from ear to ear. He was beyond cute, especially when he stared at me like that.

"Jeep's this way," he slurred while clearing his throat. Following, we walked a few feet until we arrived at the garage across from the front porch.

"Do you own all of this?"

"Yup," he looked over at me. "Saved up and bought it all myself. I hated living on base. Too many... eh," he shrugged, "never been a fan of gossip and partying. I like my country. My space and freedom."

 _Not a fan of gossip and partying?_ That contradicted all I'd heard but it went right along with all I had learned from my own first-hand experiences with him.

Opening the door like a gentleman, I scooted into the cold leather seats.

"Worry not," he flicked a switch, "the butt warmers are engaged!"

I couldn't help but giggle. "Butt warmers?"

"I spoiled myself. I wanted the best model. I used to have an old Wrangler but it started giving my troubles. Upgraded to this baby. Brand new, fully-loaded. Matching roof and trim. Back tire cover even has the Overwatch logo on it!"

" _Wow_ ," I couldn't help but say in a sassy tone.

"Is that mockery I hear?" He leaned across the space between our seats. "I'll have you know this baby can get through anything. Lockers, winch, light bar. Why, I even have an axe and chainsaw in the back!"

"You sure you're not taking me out to the forest to bury me?"

"Now that you mention it..."

I glared at him. He was nothing like the main in the rumors and gossip.

Engaging the engine, he flashed me another grin. Cocking a brow, I dared to inquire why. Why was he so proud and boastful?

"It's a manual!"

"So?"

"Do you have any idea how rare these are? Jeep is the only manufacturer on the market that still offers a manual transmission. Even the Toyota's have flipped to auto. But Jeep, the good ol' American Jeep, is keeping the tradition."

"I can tell you like cars," I teased, struggling to keep up with the conversation.

"No," Jack shook his head. "I like Jeeps."

Pulling out of the driveway, he flicked on the radio. "Whatcha lis-"

We both stopped. Tuning in, our ears were met with the horrific modem sounds and beeps.

"This is the emergency broadcast system."

Jack turned to look at me. We both knew what would follow.

"Okay," he pulled the car back into the garage. "Plan B!"

"Plan B?" I asked half-afraid.

"We shouldn't be out and I'm sure the Perion is closed. So, Plan B! Dinner at my place." He paused to look at me. "Uh, that's if you're okay with that. I don't want to make you uncomfortable. I can drive you home if you'd prefer."

Chewing my lip, I weighed my options. Brave an evening with Jack in his house or retreat back to the safety of my apartment.

"I'll stay," I proudly stated. Thus far, he'd proved all the rumors wrong. A few extra hours wouldn't kill me... I hoped.

Out of the Jeep we went. Back up the steps and onto the front porch I waited as he unlocked the house. As soon as he opened it, the warmth from the living room pooled over me.

Flicking on the light, I felt something within me shudder. He tried the switch again. And again.

"Jack...?" I pawed at the darkness before me.

"Uh," he stepped back, which caused my hand to abruptly crash into his broad back. "I think we just lost power."

He shuffled forward, leaving me in the moonlit door frame. I could barely see anything. Granted, I'd never been to his house so I knew where nothing was.

Soon I heard foot steps and then saw a light. A flashlight.

"Close the door," he instructed while helping me in. "I'll start a fire. You," he passed me the flashlight, "see if you can find any candles. Mom loves to send me candles that smell like home so you'll find them. A lot of them."

"Wh-where's home," I asked between chattering teeth.

"Bloomfield, Indiana. You?"

"Switzerland," I quipped while spying a candle. "Do you have any matches?"

"No."

I turned to shine the light on him. "Are you serious?!" panic evident in my voice. He was grinning though. " _Jerk_ ," I spat while he tossed me a box of matches.

"Should be candles in each room. Light them while I get this started, 'kay?"

I nodded and did as told. Of course, before lighting the candles, I had to read the name and get a good whiff of them. He was right! They all smelled like a farmer's house. Of apple pies, pumpkins and spice, fresh spring air, and the soft scent of cotton and lavender.

"You've good taste," I mentioned to him as I finished lighting the last one and returning to the living room.

"Fire's ready," he stated while rubbing his hands together. "Can I get you something to eat?"

"What do you have?"

We walked to the kitchen.

"Frozen homemade chicken pot pie, frozen homemade meatloaf, frozen blueberries from the farm..." he trailed off, cuing me that we were screwed.

"Do you have anything that isn't frozen?"

"Leftover spaghetti?"

I curled a lip at that idea. I didn't really want cold sauce.

"I have... milk and cereal?"

It was better than spaghetti so I nodded.

"OH!" He did a cute little jump and pulled something off a higher shelf. "And campfire popcorn!"

"Campfire popcorn?" I quirked a brow.

"Yeah," he nodded, "no microwave needed."

"What are you," I teased, "a boy scout?"

"Technically an Eagle Scout but close enough," he huffed while pulling out two boxes of cereal. "Which do you prefer? The _gourmet_ Bran Flakes or the obviously-not-mine-because-who-eats-this Lucky Charms?"

"Lucky Charms," I chirped. It had been far too long since I indulged my childhood.

"A woman after my own heart," I heard him whisper to himself.

"Where do you keep the bowls?"

"Probably in the dishwasher..." he said with a nervous laugh. Sure enough, all the bowls were dirty and waiting to be cleaned in the dish washer.

"Now what?" I worried my lower lip. I really didn't want cold spaghetti.

"Fear not, my dear!" He twirled around to pull out-

"Do you seriously have Avenger's cups?"

"I have DC cups if you prefer," he retorted with a hint of defiance.

"No big boy cups?" I jeered.

"Do I look like a big boy to you? All my frozen food was from my mom. She sent them at Christmas. I can't be trusted with cooking or buying stuff!"

I couldn't contain myself. I burst out laughing and soon snorting, unable to control my emotions. He was just so dorky! So cheesy! He was nothing like anyone told me!

 _"Excuse me,"_ he rescinded his offer and took back his cup. "I do not think you deserve to use these. You clearly are above my low standards."

Again, I found myself entertained. Laughing, I lunged forward to steal back the cup he originally offered me. "Low standards?" I dared to ask. "If you're judging me, doesn't that mean you have higher standards?"

"Suppose you're right. It's probably why I never invite anyone over. Wouldn't want them to mock my level of awesome."

To that comment, I just had to ask, "Oh so all your lady friends have the pleasure of cleaning up after you?"

The mood in the room changed. Drastically. Had I said something I shouldn't have?

"I...," I bit my tongue.

" _Angela_ ," his tone changed. This demeanor changed. Everything about him changed. Quite frankly, he was intimidating. The dark shadows cast on him by the fireplace just made it all the worse. I actually felt weak, vulnerable. I didn't know what to do. "What kind of man do you think I am?"

His question caught me off guard. I didn't know how to respond.

He pulled his blue eyes up to meet my frantic pair. I felt like a mouse being stared down by a very hungry cat.

But then... then I noticed it. His eyes. Hidden beneath the black shadows cast by his hair. His eyes... They were sad. Brokenhearted. They looked teary.

" _Jack_ ," I stepped closer but he stepped away. He turned his back to me.

"I shouldn't have asked you to stay. Get your coat. I'll take you home."

Hearing those words and the tone of his voice, it broke me. I felt so weak. So fucking weak.

My throat started to tingle. My eyes grew heavy and watery. I felt as if I was on the verge of tears.

Reaching forward, I grasped the back of his shirt. I pulled myself into him. I plead. I tried not to cry.

Silence. We stood their in silence. And god only knows for how long.

But what I do know is that with each passing second, his lifeless heart found its strength. His breathing returned to normal. His posture straightened. And soon, his hands were curling around mine.

 _"I'm sorry,"_ I mouthed into his back.

" _No_ ," he broke free from my grasp. " _I'm sorry._ "

Looking up with smeared eyes (waterproof makeup is really the way to go but I never had a reason to buy it!), I waited for him. For his reaction. For his move.

"You get the Bran Flakes," he chided. "Because you're _mean_." His tongue poked out. "Big meanie!" Thieving the Lucky Charms and hording them for himself, he bolted into the living room. "I AIN'T SHARING!"

Puffing out my cheeks, I growled across the bar-like counter to him. "I don't want your shitty Bran Flakes! I want that stuff!" I rounded the counter and dove across the floor to tackle him.

Chomping lightly on his wrist, I tried to moisten his arm with the hopes that he might drop the precious box of cereal. It backfired. It _really_ backfired.

His cold, wet tongue lapped across my cheek and up past my nose.

 _"Oh my god,"_ I squealed while pulling away.

" _Mine_ ," he hissed before hugging the box. "Meanies get Flakies!"

I turned to give him a cold stare. " _Jack Morrison_ ," I used my authoritative doctor tone, "you gimme that box by the count of three _or else_!"

"Nuuuuuu," he whined. "You can't tell me what to do!" He even flailed his arms and kicked his legs like a child. He was really too precious.

That's when I cracked. That abrupt laughter of mine filled the room. Seconds later, his harmonious laugh joined mine.

When we finally caught our breaths, I looked over at him, smug grin in tow. "As _your_ doctor, I think I can tell you what to do."

"As your..." his lips twisted together as he tried to come up with a comeback, "hot blonde friend!"

Cupping my hand over my mouth, I stifled my laugh. "Hot blonde friend?"

"You're not denying it!" he was quick to add.

I tried to come up with something but words failed me.

"Ha! _See_!" He cleared his throat. "As your hot, blonde _single_ friend, I demand you sit beside me and share some of these with me."

"Doctor's orders?" I asked while taking a seat beside him.

"I don't know," he shrugged while offering me the box, "I'm not the doctor. I'm the dashing soldier who knows nothing."

I slipped my head on his shoulder and twirled my fingers between his. "You do know something."

" _Hmmm_?" His head fell lightly against mine.

"You know how to get on my nerves!" He pulled his head back in awe. "Kidding!" I lifted my head just enough to place a quick kiss on his jawbone. "You know how to make me..."

Ours eyes met and I felt my core temperature rise as my heart skipped a beat.

 _"I know how to make you what...?"_ His words were a whisper across my cold skin.

I blushed and looked away. And he followed up by smiling and shaking his head.

"You're cute," he shared while putting a marshmallow on my tongue. His head fell against mine again, which drew forth a smile on my lips.

Finding peace beside him, I let those rumors burn in the fire. He was no monster. He was no womanizer. He was as pure and sweet as I thought. And I couldn't have been happier. I couldn't have been safer.

My hand found his. I squeezed it lightly before using him as my pillow.

"This is perfect," I said while soaking up the warm glow of the fire.

He said not a word. But I knew he was happy for he silently sucked on cereal beside me, never letting go of my hand the entire time.


End file.
